Memories of Gold
by Dark Aegis
Summary: She remembers gold, but she does not know if it was merely a dream. A fantasy woven as an explanation. A Tenth Doctor, Rose, and Jack story.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Memories of Gold  
**Author:** Gillian Taylor  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters:** Tenth Doctor, Rose, Jack  
**Summary:** She remembers gold, but she does not know if it was merely a dream. A fantasy woven as an explanation.  
**Spoilers:** PotW, Children in Need episode, Christmas Invasion, the existance of Torchwood.  
**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. I just like playing with them...a lot.  
**Archive:** Sure, just let me know.

**A/N:** Thanks, as always, to my lovely betas NNWest & WMR for both their encouragement and suggestions.

* * *

_"Memories of Gold"  
by Gillian Taylor_

She remembers gold.

Gold within. Gold without. Gold on her fingers. Gold in her eyes. Gold in her soul.

It filled her. Surrounded her. Protected her.

Golden power. Golden dust. Golden beams.

Within her. Around her. Fighting for her, doing her bidding. Golden power. Golden light.

She remembers pain woven with the gold.

Her head. Her heart. Her soul. Painful golden light, painful golden past, present and future. Painful gold. Painful future.

She remembers life within the gold.

She brought life. Prevented death. Drove it back just once to reclaim what she loved.

She remembers death within the gold. A future that was certain the moment the Doctor's lips pressed against hers.

She remembers it all...

And then she wakes.

* * *

He remembers gold.

In her eyes. In her hair. Around her and within her.

And it was killing her. All of the Vortex housed within a fragile human girl. All of that power consumed for one reason. For him. For her Doctor.

Of all the choices that he could have made, of all the choices that he had made in the course of his lives, this was the easiest. He had done it before, certainly. Given up a life for a companion, but this was different. This was far, far different from that. He would give up his life for her, because she was willing to give hers up for him.

Him. A lost and broken Time Lord that had only just begun to heal because of her.

He remembers gold.

Golden light. Golden pain. Golden fire that rippled through his ninth body. Golden death. Golden rebirth. For her.

Gold within. Gold without. Golden hair spilled upon the grating of the TARDIS floor as he burned. For her. A fantastic life. A fantastic rebirth. For her. In gold.

Golden fire. Golden flames. New teeth. New life. Barcelona. New mole. New world. A world that she created. New him. New her.

He remembers gold...

But he thinks that she never will.

* * *

He remembers gold.

A Dalek's voice. Exterminate. A blast of energy. Fiery darkness. Death.

The feel of air within his lungs. The burst of golden energy that restored him to himself.

He remembers gold and death and life.

He remembers the grating sound of a temporal engine filling his senses.

He remembers running, denying what he had heard.

He remembers golden energy that filled the room. Golden light atop the fading blue police box. Golden pain, golden sorrow, golden grief.

He remembers gold.

But they don't remember him.

* * *

She remembers gold, but she does not know if it was merely a dream. A fantasy woven as an explanation. He sang a song and scared the Daleks away. But what if it was her?

She remembers gold. It haunts her days and nights.

She remembers gold, but she is not sure how to tell him. Would he deny her memories?

She remembers life. Giving life. Giving _Jack_ life. But it is woven with the gold. What is the truth? What is fiction?

She remembers looking into the Heart of the TARDIS. She remembers its gold. She remembers its fire. She remembers it all.

But does he?

It starts with a word. "Doctor?"

He turns toward her and hidden within the depths of his dark brown eyes she thinks she can see it. Gold. In him. In her. "Yeah?"

"I remember."

"What?" He doesn't understand, not yet. But she remembers. And she thinks he did too.

"I remember gold. All around. Within me. Around me. An' I think it did somethin', or I did somethin', an' it had nothin' to do with singing a song. Doctor, what did I do?"

She remembers gold.

In his eyes she can read sorrow and something else. Grief? No. Something else. Something...golden. He smiles, but it is not full of joy. Regret? "Rose..."

"Doctor, tell me. Please. I think it 'as something to do with what happened to you, an' me, an' the Daleks, an' Jack. An' I think it's important. 'Cause why else would I be dreamin' about it now?"

She sees the truth in his eyes. Regret and sorrow and determination that intermingled and fought for dominance. "I didn't sing a song and scare the Daleks away, Rose."

"Oh?"

"You did."

"Oh." She remembers gold, and it suddenly makes sense.

She was the gold. But what did she do? "How?"

"The Vortex. You looked in the Vortex and no one's meant to do that, Rose. You saved me and ended the Time War. You saved the universe and all before it was time for tea."

"But what about you?" She remembers the gold, but it didn't save him. Why?

He meets her gaze and she knows. She _knows_. "What did you do, Doctor?"

"Only thing I could do. I saved you."

"But, why? I don't get it Doctor. If I ended the Time War, why did you die? Why didn't I stop you?" She remembers gold and pain and the future intermingled. She remembers, and she knows.

"You were dying. I couldn't let you, Rose. You had to live. So I did the only thing I knew I could." He seems anxious, but the gold burns in his eyes.

"You kissed me." It is not a question.

"Yeah. Strictly speaking, I didn't have to, but I had to get it out of you, Rose. The gold. The Vortex. It was killing you."

She remembers gold, but she remembers that kiss. Everything that she had wanted was woven in a single moment. He died and was born again - because of her.

"I killed you." She remembers gold, but the guilt is not a memory.

"No!" He pulls her into a hug. "No, Rose. You didn't kill me. It was a choice. I chose to do it. Not your fault at all. Don't ever think that."

"Why, Doctor? Why me?"

"Why not?" His eyes burn gold. "Remember what Jack said? You're worth fighting for. And you're worth dying for. But above all that, you're worth living for."

"But what about Jack?"

She remembers gold. She remembers life. She remembers Jack.

He's alive.

* * *

He remembers gold.

The fiery tendrils of the spaceship that left him on a burning Earth still linger in his mind. He had asked. He had wanted to come. At least, on the planet, he might be able to find a way home. He might be able to find a way back in time. He might be able to find Rose and the Doctor again.

Those were 'mights.' This is the truth.

Long, hard days and longer nights. Little sleep. Little food. The struggle for existence on a barely surviving world grows harder every day, but he perseveres. For Rose. For the Doctor. Even though they left him behind.

He remembers gold.

His 'death' in golden fire burns in his dreams each night. He remembers dying and he remembers being reborn. Life and death and life became a transient state. Death has no use for him. Life gets a second chance. Ironic for a conman.

He remembers gold.

Her hair, her smile, her laughter. They were golden, and he remembers it all. But what lingers longest within his mind were his final moments on the station. He remembers watching his home, his family, disappear into the vortex without him.

He remembers gold, but he believes deep within his heart that they don't remember him.

* * *

Jack.

He remembers gold and the sudden blossoming of possibilities throughout space and time. He remembers possible futures, pasts and presents. He remembers what could be, what was, and what will be in a jumble of memories that will never make sense. He remembers life.

Jack's life. Jack's future. Jack's possibilities. Once he lived, died, and was buried on a planet thousands of years from his home - never a Time Agent, never a conman, never a Time Lord's companion. Once he lived, joined the Time Agency, was betrayed and torn and became a conman. Once he destroyed the Earth and himself in the process. Once he lived and became a Time Lord's companion, better with three. Once he lived, became a Time Lord's companion and died like Adric, Katarina, and a thousand others. Once he lived, became a Time Lord's companion and died but lived because of gold.

The gold he remembers.

The gold wielded by Rose.

Jack lives, and it is because of her.

But Jack was left behind, and it was because of him.

He remembers gold and he remembers that possibility. Jack lives and saves the planet - Earth of the future and Earth of the past. But to do so he had to be there. Has to be there. Must be there. Historical fact.

He remembers gold, and it left Jack behind.

But not anymore. He lives in a time machine, his wonderful TARDIS. Time is nothing, a trifle, a momentary consideration. He can bring him home.

Maybe it's time.

"What about Jack?" He grins. "He's coming home, that's what about him."

The sudden brilliance in her smile is worth it.

* * *

She remembers gold. Gold in his eyes. Gold in his voice. Gold in her mind, whispering goodbye as it passed between them through a single kiss.

She remembers another goodbye kiss. Jack's kiss. His insistence that she was worth fighting for. She. A twentieth century shopgirl worth all of that? But even the Doctor said as much. Said so before, said so now.

She remembers being sent away. The pain and sorrow and anger that filled her as the TARDIS stubbornly refused to go back to save the Doctor. But she knows how she came back now. Because of the gold. The TARDIS' gold. Her golden heart. And it was because of the TARDIS that she was able to do what she had done.

End the Time War. Save the Doctor. Save Jack. Jack's alive and now he is coming home.

She remembers gold. His gold. Her gold. Their gold. She remembers how it flowed between them like a river as he kissed away her pain. She remembers how he changed before her eyes, erupting in golden light. She remembers realising that it was still him. The outside was different, yes, but the inside was still him. Still her Doctor.

But will Jack still be _her_ Jack?

"Where is he? Jack, I mean. I remember you sayin' that he was busy, but that's it. Nothin' more."

He looks at her, and she sees something hidden within his gaze. Sorrow? Regret? Or hope? She cannot tell. "He's on Earth. Helping to save the planet, the usual."

"Always the hero."

"Yup. And that never changes." He grins at her as he sets the controls, keeping one hand entwined with hers in constant contact.

"But does he? Change, that is. I mean, is he the same Jack? Will he want to come home? Will he still..."

She is silenced by his finger upon her lips. "Change is a fact of life, Rose. We all change - have changed - though my change is a bit more obvious. I don't know what the future'll bring, but I do know this." His finger moves, trailing gently across her cheek before being joined by the rest of his hand in a caress.

"What's that?"

"Whatever happens, we're in it together. You and me. No matter what."

She remembers gold, and she can see it once more within his eyes. She watches him lean in, suddenly knowing what is to come. She remembers gold, but the gold is suddenly overwhelmed by a familiar new sensation. He is the same man. Different covering, perhaps, but this cinches the conclusion.

He is the same man because it is the same kiss.

In his touch, the gold seems to intensify and the TARDIS sings. She feels the golden notes deep within her soul. Silent they might be, but she knows they are there. And she sees that the Doctor does too.

_To be concluded_


	2. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

He sits in his office, surrounded by the medals and plaques of his service. Two years, and this is what it has brought him. He protects the planet from the big bad wolf. Any big bad wolf, really. An alien incursion, an alien visitation, even alien technology that falls into untrained hands. He does it all.

But he remembers gold.

He remembers a time when there was more to his life than a desk and the rare excursion in the field. He remembers a time when he travelled through time and space with the Doctor and Rose. He remembers a time when life meant so much more than this.

He remembers gold. He remembers the first few rays of golden sunlight upon the rebuilt cities of Earth after the Dalek attack. He remembers the sudden knowledge that he had reached the end of his time in the future. They were on their own. He needed to come back. Back to the twenty-first century. Back to a time when he might be able to find Rose again. Might be able to find the Doctor again.

They left him behind, but he did not leave them.

He remembers gold, and it haunts him. Haunts his thoughts, his days and his nights. He misses them. More than he thought possible. He misses her laughter, his manic grin, and the way it felt to truly belong.

He sits in an office, a little king of his own little clandestine organisation, but it is not enough. He's alone more than ever. Surrounded by agents, surrounded by people, but still alone.

Sometimes, he remembers the sound of the TARDIS' engines. The high-pitched wail of her arrival through the vortex would tease him; make him think that maybe this time they had come for him. Each time he was wrong.

He hears it again.

At just the barest edge of his senses, he hears it. Rising and falling as the fabric of space and time is ripped asunder. It sounds real. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but he has teased himself far too often with hopes. He is not strong enough to deal with another disappointment. Surrounded by the relics of his years in this time, he sees how shallow it truly is. This life is shallow without them. It is only natural to hear the TARDIS again. False hope, false desire. He wants to leave but must remain.

Too many promises to keep and too many people relying upon him. This is the curse of command. This is his curse and his duty. He is ever the soldier.

He looks up from his desk as a faded blue box appears in the corner. Impossible. Improbable. He sees what he wants to see. Now, even the shape of the TARDIS haunts him. Is this how he will live out his life? Seeing the TARDIS around every corner, in every room. Hearing the sound of her engines at all hours of the day?

He even imagines the doors opening.

He imagines Rose, maybe a little older than when he last saw her, stepping into his office. He imagines her joyful expression as she runs toward him, shouting his name.

He does not imagine her hug. Does not imagine the feel of her arms wrapped securely around him as she sobs into his suit jacket.

This is not his imagination.

This is real.

"Rose?" he asks.

"Jack, I missed you. We missed you." Her words are faint, but he can hear them all the same.

"How did you? Why did you? What did you?" He seems to have lost the ability to ask sensible questions. His thoughts are jumbled with memories of gold and the feel of her within his arms.

"By TARDIS. 'Cause it's time to come home. And as for what, well, it's a long story," an unfamiliar man says from just inside the blue box as he smiles benignly at them both.

"Who're you?" He is suddenly suspicious, ever mindful of the girl wrapped in the security of his embrace.

A flicker of hurt passes over the other man's face before he grins. "It's me! Honestly, Jack, I can't have changed _that_ much. Admittedly I'm not ginger, and I am a bit thinner, mind. Oh, and there is this mole that I didn't have before and sideburns. And I am sort of brown on top, but its okay. It's still me."

He blinks, trying to resolve the manic tone and the seemingly familiar look in the other man's gaze. Is it? Could it be? "Doctor?" Impossible.

A grin is his answer. "Yup! Got it in one."

"But how?" He feels Rose shift in his embrace and he lets her go.

"It's a sort of Time Lord trick. I was dying and to live I had to change. So, this is me now. I kinda like it, really. I think Rose does too."

He watches Rose flush, and suddenly realises more has changed than just the Doctor's appearance. He knows that he has become distracted. They are distracting him. There is more to it than a reunion. While he is glad to see them, he needs to know.

"Why?" The summation of the past three years both in the future and in the past in a word.

"Historical fact," the Doctor replies, running a hand through his hair and leaving it far more mussed than before. "History has you in the future and now. And, much as I'd like to, I can't argue with that nor could I tell you." The Time Lord's face flickers with pain and sorrow. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"Then why come back now? If history has me here now, why come back? Why tell me this? Why not leave me here to my 'historical destiny?'" He remembers gold, and pain, and death, and life. He remembers watching them leave and thinking that this was what his life had become. Alone.

"Because Time's had its due. The duty's up. It's time to come home."

He can't. Even as he watches Rose's expression lift in hopeful joy, he can't. Duty is a hard cross to bear, but he must do it. There is no one else. After the Sycorax, after the destruction, after the firing of the laser, he can't. He has to be here. It's his duty.

"I can't."

He remembers gold, but this is what he will remember the most. He was offered the world, everything that he had ever hoped for, everything that he had ever desired and he said no.

* * *

He remembers his dream. The three of them, together again, travelling through time and space just like before. He might've changed externally, but that's all. Nothing more. Nothing changes. Except for this. Jack's said no and the dream disappears like the gold.

"Why?"

Jack's expression looks pained as he replies. "I've made promises and I've got duties that I didn't have before. I wish I could go with you, you've got to believe me, but...I can't. There's no one else. Not yet. I've got to stay because they need me."

Need. Want. Desire. They intermingled with the gold once before. He kissed Jack, but that was a goodbye mingled with want and desire. He kissed Rose, but that was all three. He remembers gold, but he remembers duty far more. Duty to the Earth, duty to Rose, duty to the universe. He understands. But it is not easy.

"Yet?" Rose asks.

"She's not ready. Not really. Not for this level of responsibility."

He has a choice, always had a choice. In the gold, he could live or he could die. It was a loop-hole, a way out. Two choices: to live or to die. He sees the same in this. "There are other options. There are a few people in UNIT that I know can be trusted, as well as a few former UNIT members. Colonel John Benton would be a good choice. Had experience in dealing with a few cantankerous aliens, various incursions, and the Yeti. Might be able to watch over things until your choice is ready to take over."

"I'd have to meet him, and he'd have to be willing," Jack warns. But, in his eyes, he can see that hope has returned. In his eyes, he can see a flicker of gold.

"Of course."

He remembers his dream and hopes.

* * *

She remembers gold. She remembers the soft golden glow of the console room, and the shadows that it cast upon the two most important men in her life. She remembers watching the meeting between Jack and this Colonel Benton but what she remembers the most was the handshake at the end. She knew what that meant. Knows what it means.

Jack is coming home.

A short hop on the TARDIS later and a message is left – signed and sealed – on Harriet Jones' desk.

This is it.

Jack is home.

And she feels like she could burst from joy.

"Happy?" the Doctor asks, grinning at her from behind a lock of brown hair.

Brazenly, or perhaps not so brazenly, she leans upwards and brushes her lips against his. The feel of gold intensifies and she smiles. "Yeah."

His grin brightens. "Fantastic. How 'bout you, Jack?"

"What about me?" He looks uncertain, she realises. As if he doesn't know what he means to them, to her. He watched them kiss, yes, but there is more to it than that.

"Happy?" The Doctor repeats his earlier question, and Jack nods. But she thinks he's hiding something.

It's only a few short steps to cross to his side, and she pulls him into her arms. "Good, 'cause you should be happy, Jack. I want you to be happy."

She feels his astounded stare more than she sees it and she gives him a little shake. "It's true. You deserve it." She kisses him, too. Tentatively, perhaps, but a kiss all the same. She wants there to be no doubts between them. He should be happy, just like she is.

"An' you know why you should be happy?" she hears the Doctor ask from somewhere close behind her.

"Why?" Jack asks.

She feels the Doctor's arms wrap around them both, tucking the two of them securely against him. "'Cause you're back where you belong. Home."

And she knows a moment later that the Doctor has just kissed Jack.

She remembers gold, and in that moment she also remembers a future that she had seen woven within the temporal strands. Three travellers, three lovers, moving through space and time. Together, ever together, until the end. Sharing adventures, sharing their lives, sharing their destinies. No one set home, not for them. Their home was the gold of the vortex, the gold of their connection, the gold of each other.

She remembers the gold, and she smiles.

* * *

She remembers gold. She is gold. Golden heart, golden joy. Entwined with the lives of those who live upon her, she remembers it all.

She remembers companions past and companions present. She remembers Doctors past and present, just as she remembers how she had changed with each version of her Doctor.

She remembers gold. She remembers Rose, Jack, and the Doctor. She remembers giving Rose her gold for a brief moment and in that moment they were one. She remembers the last battle of the Time War just as she remembers how she and Rose protected him.

Her Doctor.

Their Doctor.

She remembers gold. Jack's death and rebirth. Rose's forgetting as she was pulled away. The Doctor's regeneration.

Their lives are so transient and fleeting. Humans grace her halls for such a brief time, but she remembers them all. These, however, these are special. Special to her and special to the Doctor.

She remembers gold, but she will always remember them.

_FIN_


End file.
